If I Die Before I Am Ready

If I die before I am ready let my body become wildflowers growing in the cracks of concrete. Let my bones feed the roots of trees nestled underneath manicured lawns. Let my teeth be scattered like seeds the wind forgot to bury. Do not let them call it tragedy. Do not let them fold my name into a prayer they never meant to keep. Dress me in color, in laughter, in all the names I claimed and all the ones I never spoke aloud. If I am taken, let me become a thousand soft rebellions; a hand held in a hallway, a banner waved at dawn, a child who says 'this is who I am' and is not afraid. Remember me not in silence, but in the wild where no one ever asked you to be smaller than your joy.